Page 16 of Flowerheart

“No,” she replied. “Master Morwyn, I was surprised to see that you had so magnanimously taken on Miss Lucas. That you, of all people, chose to oversee a case of such responsibility. Do you think that you can handle magic that an experienced magician cannot?”

My mouth hung agape. Even in my silliest mistakes, she had been kind and forgiving to me. Now, Xavier looked as though he stood before Death herself.

“I do not pretend that I’ll be able to tame her magic by myself, and I would never claim to be more skilled than you in any aspect, Your Greatness,” he murmured.

“Then whatareyou playing at? What do you have to gain from her?”

Her accusation left me as shaken as he appeared to be. Hedidmean to gain from training me, but why he wanted my magic, I still couldn’t understand. I found myself drifting behind Madam Ben Ammar—to shield myself from him or from her own wrath, I wasn’t sure.

“You and I made the same vows,” he said to her. “It’s our purpose as magicians to take care of others. If it’s in my power to help Miss Lucas and her father, I want to do so.”

“I honor that purpose with all of my might, young man. Can you say the same?”

I gasped and then bit down hard on my lip to keep quiet. Xavier shut his eyes and sighed softly instead of a proper reply.

“Now, then,” she said, “I’d like a final word with Miss Lucas, alone. If you’ll excuse us for one moment.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but in a whirl, Madam Ben Ammar opened the door once more and shepherded me through, this time onto Xavier’s porch. She closed the door behind her and laid a hand against my shoulder.

“Clara,” she said, “in light of your father’s condition, the Council is delaying any action regarding your magic. They’re going to wait and see if you can perform this blessing.” She smiled—but only barely. “It’s my hope that performing such complicated magic will help restore the Council’s faith in your capabilities. They may decide to leave your power untouched.”

She sighed. My body tensed.

“However,” she said, “I want you to be prepared, should you be... unable to bless him.”

My breath caught tight in my chest. Magic thrashed against my ribs and hissed at me,He’s going to die; he’s going to die!

I shook my head to rattle the thoughts out of my brain. “I—I can’t. I can’t think like that.”

The faintest idea of a world where the Council called mea criminal and left me powerless, where I had no one, where my father lay dead because of my magic...

“All right,” she cooed. She lowered her head, her gaze meeting mine. “I promise I’ll do everything I can to help you and your father. And I want you to know that I will be here for you. No matter what.”

Thinking of my little family and of the wild magic I’d inherited—it picked away at the wound that had broken open in my heart ever since I’d hurt Papa.

“This... this dangerous magic. Is it like hers?” I whispered. “Imogen’s?”

“I only know your mother by reputation. But... her magic is powerful, yes.” A line formed between her eyebrows. “Clara, I know you didn’t mean ill against your father. The Council understands you have extenuating circumstances. We want to help you.” She touched the puff of pale blue fabric on my sleeve. “You aren’t like her. We know you’re faithful to our cause.”

I chewed the inside of my lip and kept my eyes trained on the deep brown wood of the Morwyns’ porch. Yes, I was faithful to the laws of the Council of Magicians, but what did that matter? My magic would have its way, regardless of what I wished.

Madam Ben Ammar wrung her hands. “Have—have you heard from your mother? Has she attempted to contact you at all since last we spoke?”

“No.”Thankfully.Just thinking of her caused my magic to prickle in my chest.

“You’d tell me if she did?”

I frowned. “Yes, of course, madam. Why? Does this have to do with your investigation? Has she done something?”

Madam Ben Ammar tipped back on her heels, glancing into the window beside Xavier’s front door. She leaned close to me.

“A new potion is circulating, much the same as her poisons did five years ago.” She bowed her head, her eyes meeting mine. “If Imogen tries to talk to you, or if you hear anything of this potion—Euphoria, they call it—I want you to call on me at once.”

She reached into the pocket of her black gown and held out a light blue card. “Keep your eyes open and be cautious. People who’ve taken Euphoria are quite easy to spot. The potion makes them delirious with artificial happiness. And we’ve found victims who have started growing dandelions on their skin.”

Nausea rolled through me like a wave.

“Imogen’s coven continues to evade the Council,” she continued, “no matter how careful we are in our investigations. We fear that they may be spying on us.” Her eyes flashed. “The Council also wants to keep the public from knowing too much about this potion just yet. We don’t want to raise demand for it. So you’ll keep any talk of it between the two of us, won’t you?”

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